How We Got Here from There
by mosylu
Summary: For the past ten years, every time they're both at a party, it's pretty much a given that at some point Caitlin is going to end up in the kitchen making out with her little brother's best friend. Look, she can't explain it. She's pretty sure Cisco can't either. Killervibe slow burn AU, sequel to The Mutant and Me. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

(A/N) - At the end of The Mutant and Me, I threw in a little bit about how Caitlin thought Cisco had grown up kind of hot, because it's me and there has be at least a touch of Killervibe in everything I write. But then I realized they were going to be going to college on the same campus, and . . . well. Yeah.

 **Barry and Iris's Engagement Party - 28 and 26**

They still needed ice, so Caitlin grabbed an ice bucket in either hand and went into the kitchen to fill them. One of the bags was still all full of loose cubes, but the other had partially melted and refrozen into lumps of ice. She was smacking them apart with a meat tenderizer when she heard a footstep that made her heart skip a beat.

She looked over her shoulder. "Cisco. Hi."

"Hey."

"When did you get here?"

"Just now. Came early to help. Umm, your mom sent me in here to get the second batch of pastry shells started?"

Her heart, which had been beating fast, thunked to a standstill and sank. She pointed. "Freezer. In big gallon bags."

He opened it up and poked his head in. "Aha." He read the directions carefully printed out and slipped inside the bags. "Cookie sheets still in the same place?"

She moved aside to let him at the cabinet, taking the opportunity to turn the oven on at the same time. She'd typed up the directions herself, so she knew what to set it at.

He washed his hands and opened up the ziploc bag. For a minute or two, they worked side by side in silence.

The first time they'd talked in person in two years and it was about frozen dough. She smacked the ice bag again, trying to think of something else to say.

"You look nice tonight," he said without looking up. "That's a nice color."

She smoothed a hand down the flouncy skirt of her forest-green dress. "Thank you. So do you."

He looked unexpectedly formal, wearing a sport coat and a shirt that actually buttoned up, even if it wasn't entirely buttoned up. No tie. But his hair was pulled back, and for him, that along with everything else was Buckingham-Palace level attire. It said something about his friendship with her brother that he would sacrifice one of his beloved geek t-shirts for Barry's engagement party.

"I didn't know you were in here," he said. "By the way."

She gave the bag one last whack and the lump fragmented. She set the tenderizer aside and opened it up to shake the contents into a bucket. "Okay."

"Just saying. I didn't follow you in here."

"Fine." She tied the bag off and stashed it back in the freezer.

"It's just - you, me, the kitchen during a party," he said. "Dangerous."

She started to bite her lip, then stopped herself. "We're both adults."

"Yeah, that's the problem."

She didn't know what to say to that. She tucked an ice bucket in the crook of each elbow, ignoring the chill against her skin, and took them out without saying anything.

Well, god, she thought, grabbing a glass of wine and smiling at one of Barry's friends from work who'd just arrived early. She'd screwed _that_ up.

* * *

 **Caitlin's High School Graduation Party - 18 and 16**

The first time, at her high-school graduation party, was completely innocent.

She wanted everyone, especially herself, to be absolutely clear about that.

Cisco came into the kitchen, a skinny, undersized boy with a mop of overlong hair and a vintage Ghostbusters t-shirt that hung off his narrow shoulders. "Hey," he said. "Hey, it's your party. Why aren't you partying? There's, like, a cake with your face on it. If you don't get out there, Barry's gonna eat half your head."

She had her head - real, not cake - down on the table. "Why did I invite Ronnie?" she asked. "Why?"

As comfortable in their kitchen as he was in his own, Cisco opened the refrigerator and rummaged around until he found the orange soda they kept for him. "I can think of, like, six different reasons. Because he's your ex-boyfriend and you're still friends? Because you're nice? Because he wanted to celebrate with you? Because you wanted to get another card with a big fat check?"

"Because I'm stupid," she whimpered.

He popped the tab and took a gulp. "Okay, I wasn't going to include that one."

"He's dating someone else. Already! Someone from school."

He hopped up to sit on the table, with his feet in the chair next to her. "You broke up at New Year's, and it's June. And you went to prom with Jason Black."

"That was my senior prom. I had to go with someone." She pressed her fingers to her eyes. "You know what? You know what? Never, ever, ever get in a long-distance relationship. Never agree to one. They end in pain."

"Okay," he said.

"I'm serious. Save yourself. Learn from my suffering. They never work."

He slurped more soda. "You thought you were gonna get back together when he came back from college, didn't you?"

She gave him a baleful look.

"You know I'm right."

"So what if you are," she mumbled.

"You guys tried the long-distance thing and it didn't work and you broke up. It happens. You need to move on."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Dear Abby. Obviously you know all about the human heart at your advanced age."

"Hey, I've been there. I got dumped this year by a guy because he wasn't ready to come out of the closet. Twice! Same guy! You'd think I'd learn. It happens. Your heart gets stomped on. Pick it up and dust it off. You'll be fine."

She sighed.

"Come on! You've escaped the event horizon of the black hole that is high school. You should be par-tay- _ang_." He hopped off the table, then grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet with surprising strength for a kid that had all the body mass index of a grasshopper. "Look, out there? Right through that door? There's cake and cards with big-ass checks and music and enough food to sink a battleship and enough drink to float it again. It's a party! It's your party. Go party."

She looked out the window.

"Hey," he said, and she looked back at him. "Look. Ronnie's a nice guy. Do you really want him to think you're hiding in here, from him, and missing your own big day? You know he'd get all guilty and do, like, the eyes - " He gave her puppy eyes, wide and brimming with sadness.

She shook her head. No, she didn't want that. If Ronnie gave her those eyes, she might throw herself at him. And then she'd have to hear him say, again, _There's kind of someone at school . . ._

"Then come on," Cisco said. "Cake!"

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes so he would know she was doing this under protest. He just smirked at her and dragged her along.

"Wait," she said before he could open the back door. "Thanks."

"No prob. You've had a rough year. You deserve to enjoy yourself."

She pulled him into a hug, and he hugged her back. He was a sweet kid, she thought. A ridiculous nerd, of course, but he was Barry's best friend so what could you expect, really. But he had a very, very good heart, and for a moment, she hated the boy who'd dumped him because he didn't know what he wanted.

Impulsively, she leaned down to kiss his cheek.

At the same time, he turned his head - to pull away? To say something? - and their noses bumped, and then their lips pressed together.

His mouth was soft and tasted like orange soda, and for a moment she could swear he kissed her back.

She jerked her head up and took a step back. He stepped back too, and ran into one of the kitchen chairs, sending it skidding across the linoleum to clunk into the table. He stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she said unsteadily. "I didn't mean - I meant to kiss your cheek, honestly - "

He swallowed a couple of times and managed a smile. "Hey, it's fine."

"No, I did _not_ mean - I am so, so, so, so sorry - "

"C'mon. I understand. All this blazing sexual magnetism, you couldn't help yourself." He tossed his hair like a shampoo model. "I don't blame you. Come out and get some cake, okay?"

She followed him out the door, too dazed to argue. Kissed her back? Of course he hadn't kissed her back. Cisco didn't even like girls.


	2. Chapter 2

She darted into the kitchen to check on the cream puffs and saw her mom and Cisco laughing over something as they filled the baked shells with whipped cream out of pastry bags.

"Almost done, honey," her mom said. "Do you want to help Cisco finish these up so I can take a plate out there?"

"Sure," she said, stepping forward, only to have Cisco push a platter stacked high with filled cream puffs across the island toward her.

"Actually," he said to her mom, "I think we got a good rhythm going here, and we're almost done. Caitlin, you can take these out instead, right?"

"Of course," she said, deflating like a poked balloon. "Of course I can."

* * *

 **Cisco's high school graduation party - 20 and 18**

When she walked into the kitchen, he looked up from a card he was reading. "Hey. If you're looking for the bathroom, it's that way."

"I know, I came from there." She leaned against the counter next to him, moving a spare plate of cut veggies and dip. "To quote something a very wise young man said to me once, what are you doing hiding in here on your big day?"

He avoided her eyes, concentrating on coating a celery stick with dressing.

She registered the sound of piano music from the front room and sighed. "Oh. Dante."

"Just one song."

She'd heard too many stories from her brother about the Ramon family dynamics. "You believe that?"

He grimaced. "There's still people in the backyard. I'll go hang out there in a minute."

But right now he needed to feel a little sorry for himself. She nodded. "I'll go that way too. You care if I wait for you?"

"No problem."

Not for the first time, she realized that they actually stood eye-to-eye. She'd spent so long thinking of him as Barry's shrimpy little buddy that it shocked her every time. He looked so grown-up. She'd known him for seven years, but in the time since she'd left for college and right now, he'd suddenly shot up six inches and gotten a pair of - no bones about it - _really good_ shoulders, ones that filled out his Dr. Who t-shirt admirably. And in this position, leaning on the counter, she could still tell that his rear end was - well.

To distract herself from noticing her little brother's best friend's various body parts, she made conversation. "So, how's it feel? Being a high school graduate."

He considered the question, tapping the card against the counter. Their card, she noted, the one that she and both her parents had signed. Barry had written his own. "You know that scene at the end of the Shawshank Redemption? Where Tim Robbins, like, climbs through a tunnel and escapes out a sewer and into a ditch, and he tears his prison clothes off and just stands in the rain all - " He stretched his arms out over his head with an expression of bliss.

"Yes?"

He dropped his arms. "Kinda like that."

She smiled at him, remembering how that had felt. "Tell me that at midterms next year."

"Hey, they'll be midterms in Central City, not West Starling High. Already they're gonna be better. Plus I'll have you to show me around campus and and invite me to all the parties and everything."

"I'm not exactly the best guide. Not really a partier, either."

"But I bet you can fill me in all the best places in the food court."

"Wellllll, I can tell you that you really want to avoid the sandwich bar after about three o'clock."

"Does the meat get grungy?"

"Afternoon shift doesn't always replace the ice and the mayonnaise gets warm."

"Oooooo, food-poisoning-alicious."

"Yep."

"All right, noted. See? Valuable, already."

She laughed. "So, Barry told me something."

"What's that?"

"He, um, he said you've actually been dating some girls this year?"

"Yep."

"What does that mean? Exactly?"

He leaned toward her and whispered, "That I dated some girls."

She flushed. "Okay, I deserved that. You're right, it's none of my business." She picked up the platter of veggies and started toward the door.

He reached out and touched her wrist. She went still.

"You want the truth?" he said.

She nodded.

"I've always liked both."

She set the platter down again. "Really."

"Yep. From the get-go."

"You told Barry you were totally, completely, 100% gay when you were thirteen. You stood on a lunch table and announced it to your whole middle school when you were fourteen."

"Yup. Got detention for that, too. Disrupting the learning environment." He shook his head, tucking his hair behind his ears. "I knew I liked boys from way back, and I thought you had to pick one or the other. And for a long time, I _was_ mostly into guys. If I ever had a thing for a girl, I'd tell myself it was our heteronormative cultural constructs fucking with my super-gay brain."

"Big words. What changed?"

"I dunno. I just started noticing girls more than once in awhile. But after I made all that fuss about it, I didn't think I could go, 'Ha, ha, just kidding, I like girls now too!' And plus, there's people who'd get all mad and accuse you of being a traitor or a man-slut." He shrugged. "This year, I went, 'why the hell should I let anyone slap a confining label on me? Even me? Screw it, I'm almost done here anyway.' And then I tried my luck with the other side."

"How did that work out?"

"Bad choice on the first girl, I'll tell you what. She thought she was converting me."

"Ohhhh, _gross."_

"Pretty much. But I shot that down hard and moved on."

"Lisa, right?"

He snorted. "Yeah, she wasn't so good for me either, but at least it wasn't because she wanted to de-gayify me."

"So what would you identify as now? If you had to call it something."

"Mmmm." He chomped on the celery stick. "Bi? Maybe pan. I'm not really sure. Definitely somewhere more around the middle of the Kinsey scale than I used to be."

"So I shouldn't feel quite so guilty about what happened at my graduation party."

She could swear he went a little pink, but he said breezily, "Nothing to feel guilty about. Trust me. Anyway, even if I was still gold star gay, it was a mistake and you apologized. Kind of insultingly fast, actually."

"Because I thought it was unwelcome."

"It was unexpected," he said, giving her a look through his lashes. "Not unwelcome."

She blinked a few times. Somewhere in the back of her brain, her good sense said, _Don't follow up on that._ "Really," she said.

"I'll never turn down a kiss. Kissing's fun."

She felt . . . fizzy. Loose. A little reckless. "Never?"

 _Hold up,_ said her good sense. _He's your little brother's best friend, plus he's a high-schooler, well, practically a high-schooler -_

But she wasn't quite listening, because he smelled so nice, and those _shoulders_ , and the fullness of his lower lip, and really his upper one too, and the way that (maybe? possibly?) he'd kissed her back for a split second, two years before.

"Well, not never," he said. "I'm not a total kiss slut. I mean, if you have bad breath, I won't kiss you. Or if you're a jerk. Or if you've ever punched me in the stomach or shoved me in a locker."

"That's been a consideration?" she asked, shifting toward him. ( _Noooooooooooo_ , said her good sense.)

The flicker of his eyes told her he'd noticed the move. "More than you'd expect."

She put her hand on his chest (her good sense left the building in disgust). "What if someone wants to figure out if the last time was a fluke?"

His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he swallowed hard. "N-nope, that's not a disqualifier."

"Good," she said, and tugged him close.

This time, he definitely kissed her back, and _wow,_ was he good at it. No wet floppy tongue, no painful pressure, just light and sweet and exploratory. She held his shoulders for the pure pleasure of getting her hands on them (yes, confirmed, very nice, very solid and strong), and he put his hands on her hips and leaned into her and _oh boy._

They pulled apart after a minute. She dropped her hands. He put his in his pockets.

She swallowed. "Nope. Not a fluke."

He took a shaky breath. "Told you I'd kiss anyone."

She stepped back. "Heteronormative cultural constructs and making out with random people at parties," she said, hoping he couldn't spot the flush rising in her cheeks. "You're _so_ ready for college."


	3. Chapter 3

Caitlin took a platter that had held stuffed mushrooms into the kitchen. It looked empty, until she heard a stream of low Spanish swear words. "Cisco?"

His head popped around the side of the island. "Whoa! Stop. You're wearing open-toed shoes, right?"

"Yes."

"Don't come over on this side, then. I dropped a wineglass and I'm trying to get all the pieces."

She set the platter on the island and went to grab the broom and the dustpan. "Here," she said, passing them over the island. "For the shards."

His hand shot up like the lady of the lake retrieving Excalibur, and he grabbed the broom handle. "Thanks," he said, muffled. "I'll let you know when it's safe again."

* * *

 **Back-to-school party - 20 and 18**

Caitlin drained the last of her beer, wrinkling her nose, and then rinsed the Solo cup out twice to get the taste out before she filled it with water. Wow, she needed water. She'd been sort of planning on getting a jump start on her required reading tonight, but her new roommate had thrown this party together in about forty seconds when she'd decided, over lunch, that they needed to have a back-to-school bash.

You almost had to admire that kind of efficiency.

"Caitliiiiin!" said a voice in her ear.

She turned and smiled at Cisco. "Hey. How's your first college party?"

"Awesome. Thank you so, so, so much for texting me. The people are awesome and the music's awesome and your new apartment's awesome and your roomie is awesome and it's - "

"Awesome," she filled in, laughing at him.

He grinned back, unoffended. He'd always had that easy grin, but now there was a loose glee to it, a kind of freedom that she'd never seen in Starling City.

"How's college overall so far?" He'd moved in two days ago for orientation and she'd only seen a couple of Facebook updates.

"I love it! The best! Yeaaah!" He punched the air.

She grabbed his wrist, laughing. "Have you been drinking?"

He beamed at her. "Lil' bit."

"You're underage."

"So are you."

"This is my own apartment, and we're off-campus. I'm not going to get picked up by security for peeing in the bushes." She narrowed her eyes at him. "So if you've drunk too much, don't get caught and get me in trouble."

"Awwww, I'm fine. Although." He flailed a little. "I do have one complaint about this party."

"Oh?"

"You promised me that, like, random people would make out with me at college parties."

"I did? When?"

"At my grad party. 'Member that? Like, people just throwing themselves on my lips. Right and left. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Well, you know what, I've been here for, like, _hours_ and my lips are still sad and lonely."

She bit back a giggle. "Poor lips."

"I know."

"That's a very serious complaint."

He widened his eyes at her, looking soulful. _"I know."_

"How do you suggest I address that, as your hostess?"

He put one hand on the counter on either side of her, caging her in with his arms, and swayed into her until their lips bumped. She caught his ribs to steady him and grinned into the warm, loose, breathy kiss.

He made little _mmmmm_ sounds that turned into giggles. She braced one hand on his chest and leaned back to peer at him.

"You drank a lot more than a little bit," she said.

"Yeah," he admitted.

She reached over and picked up the Solo cup full of water. "Here, drink this. Slowly."

He beamed at her. "Okay."

"And you're staying here tonight."

"Okay."

"On the couch."

"Okay." A beat. "Awwwwwww."

She caught his chin and kissed him again to make up for it, and maybe a little bit for herself. Even drunk, he kissed like a dream.


	4. Chapter 4

"Cisco," she said. "Do you have a minute?"

"Kitchen's clear," he said, grabbing a beer.

"What?"

"Kitchen. I got up all the glass. You should be fine. Is that your great-aunt Sarah talking to Iris? I bet she's trying to talk her into converting again. I'll go rescue her."

"Wha - but." She watched him go. "That's not - I just wanted to talk."

* * *

 **Funeral - 21 and 18**

"Hi," he said. "Hi. Anything - want me to do anything?"

"No," she said distractedly. "It's fine." She tugged at the plastic wrap over the tray of sandwiches. God, the catering company had _mummified_ it.

He came over to the island and pulled a pocketknife out of his pocket, using it to slice through the thick layers and peel them back to reveal the sandwiches. She just nodded and tugged it the rest of the way off. She checked - no ham, good - and then just stared at the platter, wondering if it was nice enough to take right out there or she should find a plate and put them on the plate -

Cisco picked up the platter. "Dining room?"

She nodded.

He nodded back and walked out of the kitchen with it.

Caitlin felt like she was floating. The past four days had been like a series of horrible snapshots, beginning with her phone ringing while she was studying for biochem, and Barry's trembling voice on the other end, saying, "Caitlin? Caitlin. Caitlin, it's Daddy."

Barry hadn't called him Daddy since the age of eight.

Click, and she'd been emailing all her professors, one mass email - _family emergency_ \- and click, she'd been on the train, staring out the window, and click, she was home, sitting in the living room, talking to the funeral home - click - the cemetery - click - the catering company, and then click, she was standing in her black dress and her black shoes that pinched, they pinched so awfully, she couldn't stand anymore, she was _so tired_ -

But she had to keep standing. There was no alternative.

She started pulling the platters of cheese and crackers out of the refrigerator. She'd gone to Costco for them this morning, just in case all the sandwiches got eaten. She stacked them up on the island and then looked at them helplessly. Too many. And they were all wrapped in plastic and the things inside them were in more plastic and she had no room to de-plastic them with all of them on the counter like this.

She stared out the window. Barry was on the back deck, sitting in the wobbly, creaky Adirondack chair that their dad had built from a kit three years ago. Iris sat on his lap, his arms around her waist. He had his face pressed into her neck, and Caitlin could see his shoulders shaking from here. The girl bowed her head over Barry's, running her fingers over the back of his neck, not saying anything.

Caitlin looked away. That was too intimate for her to witness, somehow.

She hadn't really cried. She'd cried a little, here and there, but the tears had escaped without her knowledge. She'd just touch her cheeks and they would be wet. She wished she could break down like Barry had, with Iris.

There was a boy, Trevon, from a couple of her classes. She'd had a couple of coffee dates and one reasonable make-out session with him. They'd meant to hang out the same night that Barry had called. Third date; she'd been mildly excited on the basis of that make-out session.

She'd texted him on the way to the train station to break the date. He had texted early this morning - _sorry about ur dad_

Would he hold her, when she went back? Would he ask her about her dad? Would he let her talk or let her be quiet, the way Iris had been with Barry, these past few days?

No, he really wasn't the type.

She decided not to text him back.

Cisco came back. "My parents just got here," he said. "You want my mama to come in here and handle this?"

"I couldn't ask her to do that."

"It's fine. She'd love it. She'd be all over it."

"I need to make sure everything got taken care of."

"Looks like it did. Don't you need to, like, sit shiva or something?"

"This isn't when you sit shiva," she said distractedly. "That's later. Besides, Dad isn't Jewish and we're Reform anyway. No. I just need to make sure the company didn't send any ham. I told them no ham. I told them _specifically._ "

They'd never kept kosher. Caitlin loved lobster and crab. Dad and Barry both liked bacon. But some of her mom's older relatives had come and if there was ham, Mom would never hear the end of it. She was probably in enough trouble for the appetizer platters that had both meat and cheese.

Cisco looked around. "Did you take care of _all_ of this?"

"Somebody had to," she said.

"Barry - ?"

"He had to handle the hospital and everything before I got home. Besides, he turned nineteen last month. He doesn't know this stuff."

"Okay, or your mom - "

"She's still got bruises all over her chest from the - from the seat belt - "

"Okay," Cisco said hastily. "Okay, but it's all done now, pretty much. Can't you just let somebody else - ?"

"No," she said, taking one of the platters to the table. "I've got it. Just let me do it."

He watched her tear open the plastic on the platters, and then peel apart the little packages inside. All this plastic. No wonder there was a garbage patch the size of a continent in the Pacific.

"It was nice, what you said," she told him, arranging the crackers in a line. "At the funeral. I didn't know you talked to my dad about leaving the church."

"I figured that as a lapsed Lutheran dude married to a Jewish lady, he probably had a different perspective on religion than my forever-Catholic family. It was good. That story he told me - about how the believer sees someone hungry and says God will take care of them, and the atheist sees someone hungry and feeds them. That was good."

"Yes, it's an old story. I think he got it from my great-uncle."

"The rabbi."

"Yes."

"It was sort of like permission. That I didn't have to believe in God to be a good person."

"You are," she said, and peeled another plastic mini-package apart.

He shuffled his feet and tucked his hair behind his ears. "Gimme something to do," he said imploringly.

She couldn't think. She wrestled with a particularly stubborn packet of cheese. "Coffee," she said. "Is there still coffee? Out there? Or is it running down?"

"I'll look." He turned to go.

She tugged too hard, and the packet of cheese exploded, little slices flying everywhere across the counter and the floor and the table and just _everywhere._

She let out a noise that clawed at her throat on the way out.

He was back in front of her. "Whoa, hey, it's okay, it's cheese - it's nasty cheese, too, who thought of putting pepper in cheese, that's _nasty -_ " His hands fluttered around her shoulders like nervous butterflies.

Her heart hammered in her chest and her ears rang. She couldn't get enough air, there was no air, why was there _no air -_

He put his hands on her face and kissed her on the lips, once and twice and three times, whispering, "Shhhhh," as he did.

She grabbed his suit coat and kissed him back hard, fingers curling in the slick material. She let go of him when she had to, in order to breathe.

"Wasn't," she said. "Not isn't. Wasn't."

"Huh?"

Her face crumpled. "Dad _wasn't_ Jewish."

He pulled her into his arms and she finally, finally sobbed.


	5. Chapter 5

"Have you left this kitchen in the past twenty minutes?" she asked him when she walked in and found him refilling ice buckets. She set an empty platter in the sink and ate the last cream puff, which oozed cream onto her fingers.

"Yes," he said shortly. "Here. Take this out." He pushed a filled ice bucket in her direction.

"Really. Because I haven't seen you."

"Yes. There's just - stuff. To do."

"There are plenty of people here who will do it," she told him.

"Yeah, I know, but I want Barry and Iris to enjoy their big night, and your mom not to go nuts, so I'm picking up the slack."

"What about you?"

He bowed his head over a new bag of ice, picking at the little plastic tag that sealed it up. "What about me?"

"Don't you get to enjoy yourself?"

He looked up at her without lifting his head. "Really? You're gonna go there, Caitlin?"

She bit her lip.

He picked up the bucket he'd just pushed in her direction. "Okay. Since you're determined to get me outta this room, you can finish up the ice. Have fun." He headed for the door.

* * *

 **Halloween Party - 21 and 19**

He found her in the kitchen, hunched up in the corner between the refrigerator and the pantry door. She looked up. "What are you supposed to be?"

"Juan Cholo," he said, tugging at his vest and fixing the bandana around his forehead. "You know. From Estar Guars."

"That's - that's cute. I like that."

"I stole it off the Internet."

"Still cute. What's Jonas?"

"Chuy, obvs. You think I'm gonna date a bear and not make him dress as the Falcon's co-pilot?"

"Oh, well, clearly." She sniffed. "And I'm dressed as the girl whose boyfriend is not a giant asshole who was just getting a blowjob in the upstairs bathroom, _not_ from her."

He surveyed her patchwork dress and the eyeliner stitches on her arms and legs and face. "Funny, that girl looks exactly like Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas."

She sniffed again. "I know, right?"

"I'm so sorry," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Did everybody at this party hear?"

"Uh, yeah, pretty much."

She glared at her cup. "He couldn't have kept it in his pants for _one night?"_

"He's done this before?"

"'But babe, monogamy is a false social construct, imposed on us by rigid and outdated Judeo-Christian ideas,' " she said in a mocking voice. "'And it's my biological imperative to spread my genetic material to as many vessels as possible to ensure the propagation of my species.'"

"Whoa, hold up one fucking minute! _Vessels_? He used the word _vessels_? And he called himself a species?"

"Yes!" she shrieked. "And then he's all, 'I didn't mean it like that, babe, I respect you completely, vessels is an evolutionary term. It's not me, it's science!'"

"I fully believe in the scientific proof that he's a waste of oxygen who deserves a Darwin award, like, _stat."_

"I am more than willing to ensure he meets the criteria of that award," she said grimly, and took a drink. She lowered the cup. "Oh! Oh! And did you know I'm oppressed?"

"Yeah, that's exactly how I think of you. That Caitlin, she's the most oppressed girl I know."

"Exactly! I didn't know I was oppressed either, but apparently I am, because I've started to unplug on Saturdays, and I don't eat bacon anymore, and I went home for every high holy day this fall. Also, I'm an idiot. Oppressed and an idiot."

"Holy shit. Not only is he a normal scumbag, he's a Dawkinite?"

"He's read _The God Delusion_ fourteen times," she said grimly, and slugged the last of her drink.

"Thank you _so much_ for never telling him I'm an atheist, too."

"You're so welcome."

"You guys are over, right? You've got to be over."

"Over like - like - a really, really over thing that I'm just a little too drunk to think of right now."

"Awww," he said, pulling her into his shoulder.

She leaned in. "Except he's my ride," she whimpered. "He drove because I wanted to drink, and I saw him drinking, but he's like, 'I only had one, I swear' but there were two different cups!"

"He's not your ride anymore," Cisco said. "I am."

"Oh - Cisco - you don't -"

"I'm DDing anyway because Jonas wanted to get all kinds of ex-Mormon-boy fucked up tonight. I'll just pour you in the backseat with him. It'll be okay."

Her phone binged. She looked at it. "God. He's looking for me! And he's going to find me in the kitchen, drunk and with my makeup all smeary and he's going to think it's because of his stupid, selfish ass."

"What if he finds you making out with Juan Cholo instead?"

Her head whipped around. "What about Jonas?"

"It's okay."

"I don't want to be the homewrecker tonight. Not after upstairs."

"No, it's really okay. We have a deal, and not a gross Brent-type deal where he does whatever the fuck he wants and makes you feel bad when you get upset. It's a real deal, where we both agreed and we're both okay with it. As long as we don't get down to skin and we tell each other after, parties are a free pass."

"Really?"

"I know for a fact that Jonas already macked on two boys tonight. I cheered him on." He touched her cheek. "C'mon. Don't you wanna see Brent's stupid face?"

She bit her lip, and then closed the distance between them. He moved his hand to her waist and coaxed her closer, sucking on her lower lip just the way she liked. She threw her leg over his and his arm wrapped tight around her lower back.

"Mmm," she murmured against his mouth. "How did you get better at this?"

"Practice," he mumbled, helping her straddle him. "Shit. Oh god." His hands settled on the curve of her ass, pulling her tight into his lap. She ground her hips for the delicious pressure, thinking _no skin, it doesn't count, not like the girl upstairs,_ that _was definitely down to skin_ -

Her hands tightened in Cisco's hair, and he said, "Ouch, hey, shhhh - " and rubbed her back until she realized that she was wasting all her make-out time with Cisco on being mad, and focused on him again, his lips, his hands, his body pressed against hers.

"Babe! What are you doing?"

She lifted her head, panting. Oh, she hoped her lipstick was smeared to hell and back. "What does it look like I'm doing? _Babe._ "

Brent stood in the doorway, staring at them. His stupid hockey mask dangled from his fingers. Asshole. At the last minute, he'd claimed it was just too difficult to put on the Jack Skellington look, and dressed as Jason Voorhees instead. Probably more like he didn't want the telltale smearing of the makeup to give his little hookups away. Too late now. "Who's _that_?" he asked.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and braced one arm against the drawer behind Cisco's head. "Why do you care? Monogamy is a false social construct."

"Don't forget the Judeo-Christian whatsis," Cisco muttered in her ear, and then nuzzled the column of her neck, which felt almost as good as her righteous rage.

"Imposed on us by rigid Judeo-Christian ideas, which actually _mean something_ to me, asshole! So like I told you upstairs, take your stupid books and your pretentious hipster condescension and your wandering dick and get bent!"

"You're drunk," Brent said. "You don't really wanna break up. You'll feel different when you're sober."

"I'll feel exactly how I feel now, and that's the last time you ever, ever tell me what I'm thinking or feeling. I'm coming over for my things tomorrow. Don't be there." She turned back and fastened her mouth to Cisco's again.

After several minutes, he murmured, "I think he's gone." His hand flexed on her ass again.

"Uh-huh," she said, nipping at his lower lip.

"I think he left the whole party."

"I know," she said, and kept kissing him.


	6. Chapter 6

"You want a top-up?" she asked Iris.

"Go for it," her brother's fiancee said, holding her glass out.

Caitlin emptied the bottle. "Oh, wow! We're out. I'm going to see if we've got any more."

She ran into Cisco in the narrow hallway between the kitchen and the dining room. He had a case of wine in either hand, chill radiating off them from their time in the garage. "Hey," he said. "What do they need, red or white?"

She held up the bottle in her hand. "White? But I'm sure they could use some more red, too."

"Great." He started to edge past her.

"Wait, Cisco!"

"What is it? These are really heavy."

"Are you avoiding me?"

"Why would I be avoiding you?"

"Well, I don't know, you tell me."

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. Then he scooted past her and into the dining room, calling out. "Heyyyyy, I bring libations!"

She stood in the hallway, clenched her fists in her dress, and muttered, "He _is_ avoiding me."

* * *

 **Cisco's birthday party - 23 and 21**

Somewhere around three in the morning, they ended up in the tiny, cheap kitchen of his tiny, cheap off-campus apartment, telling each other the worst jokes they knew.

The party had been packed, Cisco being the kind of person who knew everybody and didn't give a crap about the distinction between undergrad and graduate students, and somehow magically made it so nobody else did either. But by now, most everybody had gone home, or passed out. It was just them, sitting on the cheap linoleum, relying on the peeling pressboard cabinets to keep them marginally upright.

"Oh, oh, oh, I got one!" she squealed. "You'll like this, it's geeky."

"Okay, go," he ordered.

"Why was Odin's son moaning and groaning after his workout?" she asked, swallowing giggles.

"Why?"

"Because he was _Mighty Thor_!"

He howled, sliding sideways and flopping onto his back on the floor. "That's awful!"

"I know!"

"That's the _worst joke_!"

"I knoooooow!" She flopped over next to him and they convulsed with drunken laughter for several minutes. When they'd laughed themselves breathless, they panted, staring at the ceiling.

"We're so trashed," she observed.

"I'm not driving," he said. "And you can stay if you want. You can have the couch."

"So kind. Isn't that where Barry's sleeping?"

"He conked out in the bathtub an hour ago."

"Lightweight," she said. "Tell me you got photos."

"What kind of best friend do you take me for? Already up on Instagram. Anyway, couch is free, is what I'm saying."

"You're so nice." She rolled to her side and kissed his cheek. He kissed her back, on the lips.

They made out sloppily on the floor, hands combing through each others' hair, legs tangling, hips shifting and pressing together. She whimpered into his mouth. If he fucked like he kissed, he would be the best she'd ever had.

It wasn't the first time she'd had the thought, but it was the first time her good sense hadn't immediately smacked it down.

He was kissing her neck, and she was tugging his shirt up, when someone said, "Uh - Caitlin?"

They both sat up so fast that Caitlin got dizzy and had to grab onto one of his kitchen cabinets. "Huh?" she said blearily.

Felicity Smoak, her next-door neighbor, stood leaning heavily on the wall, staring down at them. "I," she said. "I fell asleep on your bed, Cisco, I'm sorry."

They blinked at her.

"Your room's the one on the right, isn't it?"

Cisco ran his hand through his hair. It stood up in mad tangles from Caitlin's fingers. "Yeah, yeah, that's mine. Didja barf?"

"No."

"S'all good then. Glad my bed could be of service."

"Anyway," she said. "I called an Uber. And I wanted to see if - " She blinked at them. "If Caitlin wanted in. But - "

"No," Caitlin said. "I mean. I mean yes. I think." She held her spinning head. "I think that's a good idea."


	7. Chapter 7

"You are avoiding me," she accused.

In the latticed light falling through the doors, she saw him scowl. "So you corner me in the pantry. Nice."

She propped her hands on her hips. "What's going on? I know we haven't talked much in the past couple of years but I thought we were still friends at least."

"I told you," he said. "You, me, a party, the kitchen. It's a pattern. And I know we haven't done it for a few years now, but what am I supposed to think when you keep coming in here after me?"

"I - "

"Look, we got pretty grungy and sordid with our makeouts sometimes, but one thing we never did was sneak around behind our partners' backs. I don't know what's going on with you and Jay right now, and I'm not interested. Leave me out of it, all right?" He grabbed a box of party napkins and shouldered the pantry door open. She had to step back quickly to avoid being smacked in the nose when it swung back.

"Oh," she said to the shelves of cans and jars. "Right. Jay."

* * *

 **Farewell Reception - 24 and 22**

Caitlin wasn't surprised to see Cisco hanging around the guest of honor - if "guest of honor" could describe somebody who was taking his research, his work, and all the best students with him to another university, including the most promising young mechanical engineer that had ever turned down a full graduate scholarship from CCU.

Cisco waved at her, and she waved back, but didn't attempt to work through the crowd. All the professors were smiling politely and keeping their bared teeth behind their lips. Conversation around Dr. Wells was going to be all landmines, and she wanted no part of it.

She'd only come because Cisco had asked her to. If she was going to make it through this alive, she would need a drink.

What with one thing and another, all the usual banal cocktail party chitchat, she didn't get the chance to talk to him until she'd sipped her first drink dry and ran into him at the bar.

"Look at you," she said. "Is that a polo? Tell me you're wearing something geeky somewhere or I'll need to take your temperature."

He gave her a sly look. "Batman, but I'm not telling you where."

She laughed before she could blush.

"Anyway, is a second-year med student even qualified to take my temp?"

"Oh, absolutely," she said without missing a beat. "And you have your chance of oral or rectal."

Now he laughed, turning red. "Thanks for making it out tonight."

"I needed the study break anyway. How are your finals?"

"Pretty much in the can. I've just got a couple more and then I'm a college graduate. Up high!" He held up his hand and she slapped it.

"Are you doing commencement?"

"Yeah. I mean. Why not. My pop's gonna be here with the truck to move me back home anyway. So he'll be able to come."

"That'll be nice. What about your mom?"

He looked away. "Dante's got a thing that day. It's fine."

She didn't think it was fine, but she didn't argue. Instead, she said, "You get two tickets, don't you?"

"Yeah. I figure I'll be able to sell one for beer money."

"Or you could give it to me."

His eyes flickered back to her. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Better than seeing you get your diploma?"

He laughed. "Whatever. It's not going to be a big thing. You did one of these deals. You stand up with a bunch of other people and they're like, 'we hereby dub thee Bachelor's of Engineering' or whatever and you sit back down. It's a joke."

"It's a big day," she said. "And I'd like to come."

He shrugged. "Okay. If you want. Whatever." But she saw him smile a little at his drink.

She looked at his drink, too. "Whiskey and soda?" she asked him. "That's new."

"This is a fancy-ass party. Thought I'd try a fancy-ass drink."

"Well?"

He made a face, but said, "I'll get used to it."

She remembered that Dr. Wells drank whiskey and soda. "Some tastes you have to develop," she said diplomatically.

They were quiet for a moment, looking around the party. He said, "Sorry I've kind of ignored you tonight."

"You've been talking to people."

"They've been talking to _me_ ," he said, looking a little wild-eyed.

"Last-minute courting?" she asked him.

"Yep," he said. "If I have one more person explain to me why CCU's engineering master's program is the best in the country, and how it was practically a pipeline into a job at Mercury Labs, I'm going to ask them why Dr. Wells is leaving."

"Oh, they'd loooooove that," she said. She twisted the little plastic sword from her drink between her fingers. "So you're definitely going back to Starling City."

"Yeah. Absolutely. I mean, it's still Starling, so that's not perfect, but I'm not missing out on my chance to keep studying under him."

"Of course not," she said.

"He's a freakin' genius," Cisco added. "He's got ideas that - "

"Cisco, I know."

He raised his brows at her. "Not going to try to talk me out of it?"

The plastic sword snapped in half. She dropped it on a napkin and smiled at him. "I want you to be happy," she said. "Plus, I know Barry's having spasms of joy at having his best friend close by again."

"Yeah, that's one thing that'll be really good." He rattled the ice in his drink a few times. He hadn't taken another sip yet. "I'm not saying I won't miss some things about Central City."

"It's fine," she said. "I know."

"You want something?" he asked, pointing at her empty glass. "I can fix you up."

"Sure."

"You mind, man?" he asked the bartender, who shook his head. Another conquest. How Cisco did it, she didn't know.

He ducked behind the bar, grabbed a bar towel, and flipped it over his shoulder, making her laugh. "What's your pleasure, miss?"

"Amaretto sour."

"Coming right up." He mixed it with easy competence, dropping the cherry in with the panache of a showman.

"You've gotten good at that," she observed, taking the glass he slid across the bar.

"Kendra showed me a few things." Cisco dug in his wallet and tucked a five in the bartender's tip jar.

"Mmmm. Kendra." She ran a finger over the rim of her orange slice. "I, ah, noticed she's not here tonight."

"Nope." His voice was casual, but he rattled the ice again.

"Busy?"

"Broke up."

She lowered her glass. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged one shoulder. "I'll live."

"Are you okay talking about it?"

He shrugged, both shoulders this time. "She has this ex," he said. "Except he's not her ex anymore, now. And they do this all the time, apparently. Break up, get back together. Break up, get back together. The cycle of life. I just caught her in an in-between time. But then Carter came back around."

"That's terrible."

"Eh. I knew from the start that it was temporary. Casual. We were going to break up once I went back to Starling anyway. I'm okay."

She plucked the cherry out of her drink by the stem and closed her lips around it, sucking for a moment before pulling it free with a _pop_. "So - you're not up for a rebound hookup?"

He paused with his drink halfway to his mouth, then set it down. "I didn't say _that."_

By some genius instinct of his own, he found a dimly lit corner in the kitchens, away from the hustle and bustle of the catering staff. He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her deep and dirty with just enough tongue to make her blood fizz.

She kissed him back greedily, thinking that anybody who had him and let him go was an idiot.


	8. Chapter 8

After the champagne toast, she grabbed him by the collar and bodily dragged him into the kitchen. "Ow! Hey! Watch it, this is like my one nice coat!"

"Jay and I broke up," she said without preamble.

He stopped tugging the sport jacket into place and looked up at her with his mouth hanging open. "What?"

"You heard me."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago."

"Barry didn't tell me."

"He doesn't know. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want to spoil - " She waved her hand in the direction of the party.

He touched her arm. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged and gave him a tight little smile. "I'm not. Or least, not as much I should be. Which tells me this was overdue."

"I mean - Wow. I - That's completely - I mean, I thought for sure the next party would be for your engagement. You guys were like Barbie and Ken."

She busied herself with sipping at what was left in her champagne flute. "Yes. Well."

"Something happen?"

"Not really, that's the thing."

His brows crunched up.

She tried to explain. "Have you ever been with someone who was perfect on paper? But in real life there's no fizz. No lightning."

"Yeah, but not for long. Not for two years."

"He was so perfect, though. He was handsome, and kind, and intelligent, and very considerate in bed - "

"Umph," he said. "TMI, slightly, maybe."

"And we had so much in common. Science. And our personal tastes. And like you said, we looked so good together."

"But," he said. "No fizz."

"By the end of it, I was looking at him and thinking, _Do I even really like you anymore?_ "

"Who dealt the death blow?"

"Our landlord."

"Say again?"

"Well, the lease on our apartment was coming up for renewal. We'd agreed to one year, to see how it went."

"Sensible," he said.

"And when we got the renewal notice, Jay said, 'What do you think?' and I said, 'No, I don't think so.'"

"What did he say?"

"He just sort of nodded and we started talking about whose books were whose. He was gone by last week."

"That's pretty bloodless."

"You're telling me."

"I've had worse breakups with my favorite barista."

"No fizz," she said, and took another drink.

* * *

 **Post-Conference Social Hour - 26 and 24**

After her session, Caitlin found herself talking to a herd of people, so she didn't quite have the chance yet to bask in her success. But the excitement was a fine buzz along her veins, a squee that wanted to burst out.

Of course, it couldn't burst out. She was a professional now. She'd presented on her serious research. Serious researchers didn't squee.

(squeeeeeeeeee)

"And this was your master's thesis? Excellent work. Really impressive. When did you graduate?"

"Three months ago. I'm working for Mercury Labs now."

"Dr. McGee's outfit! Well, they're lucky to have you."

"Thank you," she said modestly. "I'm lucky to be there. Dr. McGee's very supportive."

"I have some research that could dovetail into this very nicely. Do you have a card?"

"Yes, of course." She tucked her hand in her pocket and pulled out the card case that she'd bought just for this conference. Not the cheap aluminum thing she'd had through grad school, but something nice, in leather. She handed her card over, fingers lingering on the smooth card stock with her name and the Mercury Labs logo. And this wasn't even the first card she'd given somebody today.

(squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)

"Wonderful, wonderful. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you," she said, tucking his card into her case. "Thank you so much."

She took a moment to look at her last slide before shutting the projector down, soaking in the pride of all her hard work, laid out there for her colleagues, and her own name up there, with M.D. and M.S. after it, along with her brand-new position at Mercury Labs.

(squee!)

A pair of hands came over her eyes, and a voice said in her ear, "Guess who?"

She squeaked and yanked the hands down by the wrists. "Cisco!"

"Hi!" He grinned at her.

She hugged him, and he hugged her back, hard. His body felt firm and warm against hers.

He let her go. "Look at you! All classy." He ran a finger along the string of pearls at her throat, lying over the high neck of her shift dress. "Damn, you look important."

She laughed. "I stopped by your poster session, in the exhibit hall."

His face lit. "F'reals? Pretty sweet, huh?"

"Totally."

"Whyn't you say hi?"

"You were talking to a whole bunch of people who were impressed with your genius skills."

"Well, but I always have time for you. We coulda gone to lunch or something."

"Oh, it's all right. I was prepping for this."

"It was pretty awesome."

"You were here? I didn't see you!"

"I sat all the way in the back and made super-impressed noises about how smart you were."

"How much of it did you understand?"

"Ummmmmm . . . your name."

She laughed. To be fair, she hadn't gotten much of what was on his poster, either.

"Everyone around me totally dug it, though. You rocked." He held up his hand and she high-fived it automatically.

Maybe it was down to not seeing him more than a few times a year anymore, but it seemed as if he'd grown again. Not taller, but more solid, and his face more . . . more grown into, was the only thing she could come up with.

"I've actually got to go put my things in the car and everything, but there's a social hour in the ballroom right now. Are you going?"

"Free drinks and little pieces of cheese on sticks? Hell yeah. You need any help with this?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine! Go ahead! Go get your free cheese before it runs out."

"Okay." He touched her elbow, lightly. "So, my train doesn't leave until tomorrow evening. How's your day tomorrow?"

"Um, lots of sessions. So many things I want to go to - but we can meet up for lunch if you want."

"Yeah? Cool. Lunch is cool. Give us time to catch up."

There was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite define. She smiled at him. "That's what we'll do, then. I'd love to catch up."

"Okay. All right. So, cheese is calling my name, so . . . "

"Okay. See you down there."

As he left the room, a tall blond man came in. She waved happily. "Jay!"

"Hi!" He bounded up the stage and gave her a quick kiss. "How did it go?"

"Really well! I talked to a lot of people after. Gave out a lot of my cards."

"Nice." He smiled down at her. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it. So many good sessions right now."

"Don't be. You heard me practice it enough times. And really, I'm an adult. I don't need my boyfriend to hold my hand."

He took it anyway, giving it a squeeze. "Let's get your stuff packed up. There are some people going to the social hour I want you to meet."

She opened her mouth to say, _And someone I want you to meet_ , but closed it again. Somehow, Jay and Cisco seemed to exist in different universes.

They put her bag with her computer in the car, locking it up carefully, and went back, chatting about the various people they'd connected with and the sessions they'd seen. She waved to people in the halls, thinking _This is why I survived eight years of school. The all-nighters and the stress and that one professor who wouldn't stop hitting on me and everything for this. Just this right here. Doing science and making discoveries and being recognized for my work._

She looked around for Cisco when she got into the ballroom, and spotted him halfway across the room, talking with a grad student from CCU named - Cory, maybe? Or Casey? Possibly Devon.

Just from the tilt of his head and the way he leaned against the tall table, she knew Cisco was flirting with all cylinders.

She made a little noise in her throat, and Jay said, "Caitlin?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Um. I just saw someone and I have to go talk to him for a moment. I'll be back. Get me a white wine, would you?"

"Sure."

She marched across the party. "Hi," she said, and Cory/Casey/Devon drifted away at speed, because even three months after graduation, all the students still knew that Caitlin Snow was scary.

"Hi," Cisco said, deeply unscared.

"New friend?"

"Isn't that what conferences are for? Making new friends?"

She searched his face. What was - she was being ridiculous. Cisco could _flirt_ with someone. God.

"So. I'm here with someone," she said.

"I saw."

"His name's Jay. We've been dating for a couple of weeks."

"That's nice."

"He's very nice. It's going very well."

"Mazeltov."

"So - so I'm not going in the kitchen tonight. Just to let you know."

He swung his beer between two fingers. "Okay. Fine."

"Fine," she said. "As long as that's clear."

Why had she said that? They'd never before acknowledged their weird hookups, outside of the parties where they actually happened. And if one of them was with somebody, they'd always avoided the kitchen without the need for comment or discussion.

But for some reason, it had felt like something she needed to say.

She realized she'd been staring at him for about ten seconds too long. "You still want to get lunch tomorrow?" she said, in a too-breezy voice.

He took a slug from his beer. "No, actually, I think I'm going to be busy. Conferencing." His eyes flicked in the direction Cory/Casey/Devon had gone. "And stuff."

She swallowed. His eyes were shuttered to her. Whatever indefinable something had been there earlier was gone.

"Okay," she said finally, and went back to Jay.


	9. Chapter 9

"How are you?" she asked him. "I feel like we haven't talked in forever."

He'd finished his champagne and was rifling through the refrigerator. "Well, we're in different cities now."

"This is the information age. I still talk to Barry and Iris and my mom all the time." She smiled to herself when he pulled out a can of orange soda.

"Well, but they're family."

"What else is in there?" she asked. "I've had enough alcohol, I think."

He poked around. "Iced tea?"

"Perfect."

He passed her the can and she poured it into her champagne flute. He laughed. "Fancy." He filled his own flute with orange soda and leaned on the island next to her.

She returned to the conversation. "You're part of my life too. And I've missed you. So how are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Yeah? How's your job?"

"I'm actually looking around for something different."

"What? You're leaving Wells?"

"Turns out he's not the person I thought he was."

She raised her brows, silently inviting him to elaborate, but he shook his head and looked back into his flute. "Don't really want to get into it," he said. "Just a messy, ugly story. Maybe some other time."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know how much you looked up to him. That always hurts, to lose an idol."

"Not much more than getting your heart crushed in your chest."

She touched the back of his hand. He turned it palm up and squeezed hers, then let go.

"So where are you looking?" she asked.

"You know. Around. Spreading a pretty wide net. Have to, in this economy."

"Mmm." She flicked her thumbnail on the base of the champagne flute. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Nothing serious," he said. "Not for awhile."

"Hmmm," she murmured, and drank her iced tea.

* * *

 **Open House - 27 and 25**

When the door opened, Caitlin didn't look around. People had been coming in and out of her and Jay's new apartment all night. "Helloooo," she called out vaguely, from where she knelt trying to get the fireplace going.

A pair of long arms wrapped around her from behind and hauled her upright. She shrieked, "Barry!" and spun around to hug her little brother.

He laughed, rocking her back and forth for a moment before letting her go. "Surprise!"

"Oh my god, you came five hours on the train just for a party?"

"I had good company," he grinned, and Caitlin caught her breath before she saw her brother's girlfriend standing a few feet away, smiling at her.

"Iris!"

"Hey!" The other woman's warm arms closed around her. "You look amazing! I love the new bangs."

"I'm still getting used to them," Caitlin said, flicking them out of her eyes. "Really, though?"

"Oh, yes, they suit you."

Caitlin stepped back to have a look at her. "Did you get your hair cut, too?"

"Just a few inches when I started my new job, just to get it above my shoulders. But I think I'm going to let it grow back long again."

"Oh, yeah, it's always so pretty at that length."

" _Anyway,_ " Barry said, bored with hair talk. "We're not just here for the party. We're taking the holiday weekend. Gonna see the sights and everything."

"You're not staying on my couch, mutant," she said, poking him in the chest.

"Oh, god, no," Iris said before he could respond. "I made him get a hotel. We checked in and everything before we got here."

"Excellent," Caitlin said, looking over Iris's shoulder. "Um. Did Cisco come? By any chance?"

Barry and Iris exchanged one of their split-second, ten-thousand-gigabyte glances. "No," Barry said. "Nope."

"Oh," she said.

"I think he had to work?" Iris offered.

"Oh, that makes sense."

"We're not enough for you?" Barry asked, trying to tease.

She hit him in the arm. "Dummy, of course you are. I just haven't seen him in a long time. Wasn't he out of town the last time I went home? And he's still got friends here so I thought he might have taken advantage of the long weekend like you did. That's all." She felt the explanation trail off into awkwardness.

Barry cleared his throat into the silence.

"So!" Iris said brightly. "Show me around! I've only seen it in pieces on Pinterest. I want to get the whole effect!"

Caitlin escorted them around, introducing them, getting them food and drink, asking about Barry's caseload with the Starling City PD and Iris's promotion at the newspaper, making plans to meet them for dinner with Jay the next night.

She smiled and laughed and chatted and thought, _Why would he come all this way, just for this party? What a stupid question. Why did you ask?_


	10. Chapter 10

**Party of Two - 28 and 26**

She and Cisco had to gang up to keep Barry and Iris from helping with the cleanup. "Not for your own party, you idiots!" Caitlin said, shoving her sister-in-law-to-be out the door.

"Go home, dude," Cisco said, poking Barry in the shoulder until he laughed and followed Iris. "We got this. It's cool."

"Mom, you too." Caitlin hugged her. "I absolutely forbid you to even think of washing a single glass. Cisco and I will handle this."

"But you've been handling it all night!"

"And you've spent a month planning. Bask in your successful party, and go to bed."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure. I'll see you in the morning."

Her mom kissed Cisco on the cheek. "Thank you, honey."

He gave her a smile and a return kiss. "Anytime. You know that."

They cleaned in companionable silence, broken by the swish of the dishwasher and the faint clink of Cisco placing the wet glasses in the drying rack and Caitlin drying them and putting them away.

"I'm sorry I was such a jerk about Jay," he said as he ran the last of the highball glasses under the water.

"When?"

"Tonight. I mean, I never liked him, but I really hated that he wasn't here for this. For you."

She felt herself flush and concentrated on the wineglass she was wiping dry. "It wasn't my party. It was Barry's."

"He's important to you. Your family's important to you. I thought you were pissed at Jay for not coming and wanted to get a little of your own back."

Putting the wineglass away, she turned to him, crossed her arms, and gave him a primmed-mouth, raised-brow look.

"Well! I didn't know!"

"You could've asked."

"Yeah. I could've." He reached in the sink and pulled the plug. The water gurgled as it started to drain. "I'm sorry for that, too."

She took up the towel again and started drying the last of the glasses in the rack. "You're right, we did have a pattern there for a few years. But all I wanted tonight was to talk to you again. We hadn't talked."

"No," he said. "We hadn't. I missed talking to you, too. A couple of likes on Facebook every now and then really isn't the same."

She felt warmth creep up her cheeks and said brightly, "Besides, we were at the same party, the whole night, and we didn't make out in here even once."

He dried his hands and started rolling his sleeves back down. "Good point, and we spent some quality time in here."

"Right, and all we did was talk."

"Wow. I feel like this is a mark of maturity, or something."

"I think it is. Go us," she said.

"Go us," he echoed, grinning at her, and held his hand up.

She high-fived him, but instead of the quick slap it usually was, her fingers wrapped around his, and his wrapped around hers and -

And -

They stood, holding hands in the air, staring at each other. She watched the smile fade off his face, and his eyes go dark in a way that made lightning dart under her skin.

He said in a low, hoarse voice, "You wanna come home with me?"

"Yes, please," she whispered.

* * *

Caitlin moaned when she felt Cisco throw his arm over her. "Nnnnnooooo," she whimpered into his pillow. "Don't touch me."

"Why not?"

"Because then I'll have to fuck you for the _fourth_ time in an hour and we'll both _die."_

He locked his arm around her waist and pressed sloppy kisses to her shoulder blade. "What a way to go, though."

"Yeah," she said.

"Anyway, the spirit is willing but the flesh is totally weak. All I've got in me is some snuggles."

"Okay," she said. "That's good. Maybe we won't die yet." She felt him smile against her skin.

He got up about half an hour later - "Too hungry to be sleepy, you?"

"Too sleepy to be hungry," she mumbled and snuggled into his pillow. He laughed and kissed her until she reached up to hold his face and kiss him back.

She lay dozing, but thoughts kept intruding, as if he'd taken some kind of buffer away with him that blocked out reason and good sense.

After about ten minutes, she got up, rooted in one of his drawers for a shirt, and went into the kitchen, the cotton hem flicking over her thighs.

He was leaning on the counter, wearing only Captain America boxers, drinking a glass of water, and scrolling through GrubHub on his tablet. He looked up and smiled when he saw "Accio Coffee" stretched across her breasts, and smiled wider when he saw her bare legs.

"Hey," he said, handing her the water. "Nice shirt. I have three beers and half a tray of ice in my fridge, and a quarter of a jar of peanut butter and two stale tortillas in my cabinets." He returned to his search. "I'm thinking delivery but most places are closed so this might get really interesting." He scrolled some more. "What would you think of sneaking back to your mom's place and grabbing the leftover stuffed mushrooms?"

She took a drink, studying him. When she swallowed, she said, "Where do you see this going?"

His hand went still.

"I mean, is this a one night stand, or a weekend fling, or will we just agree to see each other when I'm in town . . . "

He straightened up and considered her carefully. "Well," he said. "I've been in love with you since your high school graduation party, so, no. Being part of your occasional visit home isn't gonna work for me."

"My graduation party," she said faintly.

He nodded.

"That was ten years ago," she said. "You were _sixteen_."

"Yeah, I know. I was there," he said.

She gaped at him.

"Look, it's not like I've been pining or anything," he told her. "I've been with other people. I've loved other people. I didn't even really know what was going on until I went back to Central City for that one conference and I was just so damn excited to see you that I was like, huh. Wow."

Several things about that whole interaction started to come into focus. "And I'd just started dating Jay. And I made such a stinking point of telling you that - "

"It was over," he said. "This crazy, weird, sexy thing we'd been doing for actually years, that it was over."

She winced. "I'm sorry. I - I don't know how to explain, except that I felt _so adult_ that night, after my presentation. So sophisticated. I was so high on my mature boyfriend and my mature career and my mature drink choices and my mature . . . maturity. And I thought that it was only right to - "

"To break that immature hookup habit."

"I can't believe you had any feelings for me after that."

"If you were just some girl I periodically macked on at parties, then yeah, that would've done the trick. But you were rooted deeper than that." He smiled ruefully. "And I tried to get over you. I really did. It's just that every time I thought my feelings for you were gone, I saw you or heard about you and boop!" He splayed his hands. "There they were again. It's like those microscopic animals."

"What?"

"You know the ones. You can burn 'em or freeze 'em or shoot 'em into space and when you get them back - boop! They're fine."

"Water bears," she said. "Tardigrades."

He pointed at her. "Those." He dropped his hand. "We're amazing together. I kind of always knew we would be. Which is why - " He swallowed. "Which is I'm honestly not willing to settle for a casual kind of whenever thing anymore."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Well. My schedule at work is a little strange at the moment. This really was the last weekend for awhile that I could get away. But the project we're working on is slated to be done by the end of July, so after that it should be easier for me to take a weekend, or even a few days, and come down here. And of course, the train runs both ways so as long as you don't mind me having to work a lot, I want to see you whenever you can come to Central City. In the meantime, there's texting and email and Skype and - "

His mouth had been hanging open since the beginning of her speech. He finally managed to get himself together enough to say, "This - you thought this out? Just now? How to do this long-distance?"

"Yes." She twisted her hands. "If. If you're willling."

"You hate long distance. You think it just draws out the breakup into a horrible agonizing endurance contest. You will never, ever do it again, ever. I've heard it a few times from you."

She dropped her head and played with the hem of her shirt. "I was eighteen," she said. "Ronnie was nineteen. And it was more than the distance that broke us up. He'd gone away to college and I was still in high school, and we might as well have been in different universes. But I thought true love was forever, so it was easier to blame the distance than it was to admit that we were both changing and growing away from each other. I'm older now. I've had other relationships. So have you. We've learned from them. I think we can do this."

His mouth opened and shut a few times, and he shook his head like a dog coming out of water. "Jesus, Caitlin," he said quietly. "I was gearing up to talk you into it. I had all these great arguments and everything. But you - you just already thought it all out and got okay with it in like ten minutes."

She bit her lip. "I don't know if 'okay' is the word. Honestly, it scares me. But if long-distance is the price of admission, then I'll pay it. Because you're right. We're too special together to be casual."

"For me," he said. "You'd do that for me?"

She nodded. "I - I don't know when it started. I can't point at a moment like you can. But I love you, too."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a deep, slow, tender kiss that melted her from the inside out. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, soaking in the sweetness of it, the take-your-time of it.

Maybe it hadn't been ten years for her, but it hadn't been ten minutes, either.

He rested his forehead on hers and they both sighed at the same time, breaths mingling. After a moment or two, he said, "Okay, I feel like it's only fair and right at this moment to tell you I had a phone interview with Mercury Labs last week."

She jerked back to stare at him. "Wait. My Mercury Labs? Where I work?"

"Unless there's another one in Central City."

"Why am I just now hearing about this?"

"I told Barry not to say anything because I wanted to tell you myself and then - " He looked sheepish. "I didn't really know how to tell you."

She was pretty sure she goggled. "Did you apply there because of me?"

"No," he said. "Well, not that I admitted to myself. I like what they're doing, I like what they're offering, and it's not exactly a tick in the con column that it'll take me back to the CC."

"You mean I thought that all through, and I got scared of us drifting apart, and I made that whole speech, when you might be moving to my city anyway?"

He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I'm sorry. I know. The speech was adorable. It was so, so sweet. And now I know how far you're willing to go for us." He grinned. "Literally."

She swatted him in the chest. He laughed.

"Anyway, they haven't offered me anything yet. I just cleared the first hurdle. This could wind up being a long-distance relationship after all."

"They'll offer you a job," she said. "You're amazing."

* * *

They found a Chinese place open for another twenty minutes. With some fast talking and the discovery that Cisco knew the order-taker's younger brother from tutoring him at SCU and apparently saving his bacon - Cisco disavowed any memory of any such thing and Caitlin smiled at him - they had a delivery of sweet and sour chicken, beef and mushrooms, and steamed rice sitting on the table in half an hour, with extra crab puffs and fortune cookies thrown in.

Apparently, Cisco had _seriously_ saved the kid's bacon.

They devoured the food. "Did you eat anything at the party?" she asked him, with her mouth full. "I felt like I didn't eat at all tonight. I was running around so much."

"You ate a cream puff," he said. "Right in front of me. I about died on the spot. I never wanted to be a pastry so bad in my life."

She raised her brow.

"There was, like, _licking._ "

"They were good," she said, filing the information away for future reference.

"Anyway, I got some finger food. I think the reason we're both so hungry is we did kinda - you know - "

"Fuck each other through the mattress?"

He froze, with a piece of chicken half into his mouth. "God, I love it when you're crude."

She giggled and applied herself to the food.

"How were you planning to convince me to try a long-distance relationship?" she asked him when they were throwing the empty containers away.

"I didn't exactly have it planned out or anything," he admitted. "I definitely would have led with that thing about the Mercury Labs interview, though. And probably then a lot more of what we both said already, pretty much. How we're adults and we've had relationships before and this is just too special to let go and there's all sorts of ways to keep in touch . . ."

"And if that didn't work?"

He licked a patch of sweet and sour sauce off the back of his hand. "Sexual wiles."

"Oh, really?"

He grinned at her. "And in the morning, I was gonna make waffles."

"With what? Tortillas and beer?"

"Well, I would've had to go to the store," he admitted.

She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his Captain America boxers and tugged him close. "We can do that later. I'll take the sexual wiles now."

FINIS


End file.
